


Unexpected

by beltainefaerie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Reunion, beginning relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:12:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltainefaerie/pseuds/beltainefaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has returned after his fall and the reunion exceeds all his expectations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

  * For [your-average-joke](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=your-average-joke).



“I’m sorry, John...I can explain. No…” Sherlock paced around the luxurious hotel room, muttering, rehearsing to himself. This had to go right. It couldn’t just be, ‘Hi, John. Did you miss me? So sorry about being dead.’

“Nothing is right!” Sherlock roared, gripping his hair in frustration.

He stopped in his tracks and looked into the mirror on the wall. He looked ridiculous. His fists slowly uncurled and he ruffled his hair back into its usually tousled style. He studied his face. Thankfully, the cuts and abrasions had healed, just a tiny scar on his left cheek. Barely visible in most lights. Good. The last thing he needed was visible blood. The marks on his back would be there for awhile, but wouldn’t show. It was essential that John not see any blood, nothing to remind him of that day. _Well, anymore than having me appear out of the blue will do._ Sherlock reminded himself.

He took several deep breaths and collapsed onto the bed. For all his bravado in Mycroft’s office, Sherlock knew this could go very badly. 

_I really thought he’d just go on. Mourn a bit, of course. It would be expected. But three years?_

Sherlock shook his head as if to clear it. _Was it possible John had missed me…_ Sherlock was reluctant even to think, _as much as I missed him?_

He leapt to his feet, resuming the rehearsal. 

\---

John sat in the restaurant, looking up now and again. Clearly waiting for someone. He seemed nervous.

Sherlock approached, warily and knelt beside the table, his head hanging low. “A thousand apologies, John,” Sherlock breathed. “I truly had no idea you’d be so affected.” That was closer than anything he had rehearsed. Maybe the closest he could get without breaking down completely. 

John made a choked sound and gripped the edge of the table so hard the dishes rattled. He paled, looking nearly as though he might faint. 

_This must be the expression people refer to as looking like you’ve seen a ghost_ Sherlock filed that away to consider later, but in this moment, John, was more important.

“Sh...Sherlock?”

“Yes, John.”

Shakily, John reached down, stroking a finger over Sherlock’s curls, as if to assure himself that the man kneeling before his was real. He drew his hand back as if scalded once he had. John squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head, looking pained. Too much information and no way to process it. He lifted his hand in a quick gesture for Sherlock to sit. 

“Oh, my God. How...why…?”

“Moriarty’s network was going to shoot if I didn’t jump. He was going to kill you. Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson, too. I couldn’t let that… you had to be safe, John.” Sherlock looked at him helplessly. That was all he had planned to say, but somehow, seeing John before him, it all began to pour out. “I had no idea what he meant when he said that he would burn the heart out of me. I wasn’t kidding when I said I had been reliably told I didn’t have one. I have never, had… I didn’t think I could feel... but I do. I missed your voice, the terribly slow peck of your typing and the warmth of a cup of tea I never asked for. It was always delicious and you had a kind of sixth sense for when I needed it most. So many times I nearly called, nearly broke cover and endangered everything, because I missed you.” Sherlock closed his eyes, unable to blink back the tears.

“I love you, John, and I desperately wish I had been able to come up with a plan that would have spared you this. I tried, but I...“ Sherlock knew he was babbling, but couldn’t stop himself.

John got up, wrapping his arms around Sherlock. “It’s really you. You’re here. When Mycroft told me to expect something unexpected, I thought perhaps he’d come to apologise. For riling Moriarty up, for failing to protect you, for… for everything. I never dreamt… Sherlock, I never, ever thought I would see you again.” There were tears in his eyes now. 

Sherlock ducked his head. “There was always that possibility. I thought I would be done sooner, but taking apart his network was more time consuming than I thought and loath as I am to admit it, there were several times I nearly failed. All I could think is that I had to get back here. I had to come home. To you.” 

John drew his chair closer to Sherlock and reached over, cupping his face and drawing him into a kiss. It was awkward at first, the angle wrong, but they adjusted, deepening the kiss until the world melted away. 

When they broke apart, Sherlock looked dazed. 

“Don’t you ever do something like that to me again, Sherlock. If you need to go somewhere, I’m coming with you.”

“You… kissed me.”

John smiled. “Yes, Sherlock. I’ve had plenty of time to imagine what I would have done if I had the chance. Plenty of the scenarios involved punching you or shouting. Thankfully, I worked through those on my own, and seeing you here, well...” John broke off and looked away for a moment. Steadying himself, he continued, “I’m not good at things like this. But after everything, I needed you to know how I really feel.” 

“This was… much better. I had calculated the likelihood of about twenty different reactions.. This… wasn’t among them.”

Sherlock had never been so thrilled to be wrong.

\---  
John finished up at clinic and popped round to his favorite coffee shop. It was just around the corner from the clinic, not usually too crowded and sometimes, if he was lucky, he could get Sherlock to eat one of their scones in the morning. 

The queue was fairly long, but not so long to make him rethink the trip. 

“Lots of customers today. Generally a good sign for a business.” John turned to see the brunette behind him. 

“The queue seems to be moving well enough. Usually does. They know what they’re about. Is this your first time here?”

She smiled. “It is. The coffee smelled so good, I just couldn’t resist.”

“You won’t regret it. Everything they do is brilliant, but I recommend the scones.”

By then it was John’s turn at the counter. He ordered coffee and a half dozen scones. 

“We only have two in the case, but a new batch will be out in a few minutes if you’d care to wait,” the gawky teenage barista informed him.

“Fine. Make the coffee for here, then,” John said, not bothered to sit for a moment before making his way home. The day had been a nonstop stream of patients and he’d hardly had a moment to himself.

A few moments later, the brunette approached and seated herself opposite him. A quick glance around informed John that his was one of the only free tables, and they _had_ been chatting. He wasn’t about to tell her off. 

She took a bite of scone and moaned. “You weren’t kidding. These are delicious!” She licked her lips and smiled.“I bet you know amazing places for dinner. I just moved here and don’t really know the area yet.”

“Oh!” John startled. He shook his head and patted her hand lightly. “Actually, I’m already in a relationship.”

“I’m very good at sharing,” she pressed, looking up at him through lowered lashes. A bit of harmless flirting had never really bothered John, but she appeared to be serious. 

“He isn’t.” John sipped his coffee and let that sink in. 

She blinked slightly, then sat back, clearly disappointed. 

He had kept things quiet for awhile at first, while he adjusted. He had never really thought to end up with a man, but Sherlock transcended everything. Six months in, John found he was comfortable, not just with their relationship, but with himself than he could remember ever being before. 

Just then, they called out, ‘John Watson?’ from the counter. 

“Those will be my scones. Ta for the chat.”

Shaking his head, John collected his scones and made his way home. Out of practice as he was, it had taken him far too long to notice she was flirting. The “good at sharing” was a new one-- John tried to imagine that for just a moment and burst out laughing. 

That night, curled up in bed, John relayed the story to Sherlock. 

“That sounds like you’d have considered it if I was.” Sherlock looked up warily. “Open to sharing,” he clarified.

“What? Sherlock, no!” John startled. “No. My point was that I’ve never heard that line before. Usually you say you’re in a relationship and it’s full stop.” John leaned over and kissed Sherlock gently. “I want you. Only you. You’re the only one for me, for as long as you’ll have me.” He pulled Sherlock close, pressing their bodies together.

They hadn’t talked much about the future. After that first confession and kiss, it had all just fallen into place and then they were together. They weren’t the kind of men to wax poetic, certainly not about their feelings, but Sherlock had given him his miracle, had come back, and there was no question for John that this was where he was always meant to be.

Sherlock’s brow furrowed as if working out a complex puzzle and he blinked. “Always.”

“Mmmm?” John hummed against Sherlock’s shoulder.

“You said, as long as I’ll have you.”

John smiled, “Always sounds perfect to me.”


End file.
